


(i'm in love) with the way you pull me closer

by wafflesofdoom



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29179869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesofdoom/pseuds/wafflesofdoom
Summary: It hadn’t been an earth-shattering revelation, in the end – nothing movie-worthy, like one of those scenes where the whole world comes to a slow stop when the main character realised their true feelings.No, it hadn’t been like that, the moment Eddie realised he was in love with his best friend.It had been more of a – oh.Oh.It’s you – of course it’s you.- aka, eddie's evolving relationship with buck, before, during and after their trip to texas.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 47
Kudos: 741





	(i'm in love) with the way you pull me closer

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'older' by lea heart. 
> 
> set post-crossover, so vaguely spoiler-y if you've not seen that yet. includes flashing glimpses of 911 lone star characters (but not enough to really be a crossover fic)

It hadn’t been an earth-shattering revelation, in the end – nothing movie-worthy, like one of those scenes where the whole world comes to a slow stop when the main character realised their true feelings.

No, it hadn’t been like that, the moment Eddie realised he was in love with his best friend.

It had been more of a – _oh_.

Oh.

It’s _you_ – of course it’s you.

It’s you, Buck – it’s always been you.

It could only be you.

How could it be anyone else?

Buck had been doing dishes when the moment had hit. Which, when Eddie took the time to consider it, later on, when he was alone, seemed entirely unromantic at first glance, but Eddie was old enough to know romance wasn’t necessarily candles, and flowers. Romance could be stability – the knowing that Buck was a constant, consistent, familiar part of his life, of his son’s life. Romance was as much about passion as it was about knowing you weren’t alone, not anymore – and you weren’t going to be alone ever again.

That felt like romance to Eddie, now – now he was older, now he’d lived life, and realised life wouldn’t always be easy.

Buck was safety.

Eddie surprised himself with the way he could admit that aloud – to himself, sure, but still aloud, even if it was in the quiet of his own home, Christopher long since gone to bed. Buck was safety – safety at work, out on rescues, during a fire. Buck was safety outside of work, too – safety, and reliability, the one person Eddie knew he could call at three am, and he would answer.

It took a lot to make Eddie feel safe – really safe, safe to the point where he could be vulnerable. Eddie Diaz had never been good at being vulnerable – and age, and life, fatherhood and therapy were all helping with that, but he still didn’t enjoy the feeling of being vulnerable, of opening himself up and showing the world the best and worst parts of himself and asking to be loved all the same.

That was daunting –

With everyone except Buck.

Buck knew the worst parts of Eddie. The dark and dangerous parts – the fighting, the anger. Buck knew the scary, twisted thoughts that had flashed across Eddie’s mind in his lowest moments, and Buck had never judged him for it, for any of it.

Even when he probably should have judged Eddie, Buck never had, and in doing all of that, he’d become a safe harbour for the rocky ship Eddie was trying to steer through life, balancing work, and being a dad, and still trying to be Eddie, the _person_ , in the midst of all of that.

Buck was safety – safety from judgement, safety from the manic business of the world and all the ways it overwhelmed Eddie. Buck was literal safety – at work, when they were doing a rescue, or fighting a fire, Eddie put his life in Buck’s hands without hesitation, knowing Buck had his back, that Buck would fight to bring them both home.

Hell – when the pandemic hit, and everything became so uncertain, and Eddie agonised over how he could protect his son, his precious, high-risk kid, Buck had opened his door ( _literally_ ) and housed Eddie (and Chimney, and Hen) for three months without a single complaint, giving up his home and privacy and any semblance of normality so that they could keep their families safe from a virus they knew so little about.

The point was –

Buck was doing the dishes when Eddie realised he was in real, grown-up, forever after kind of love with his best friend. The moment had washed over Eddie with a warmth that should have scared him to his core – but how could it scare him, when Buck was standing at Eddie’s kitchen sink, sleeves rolled to his elbows as he washed up their dishes from dinner, humming an unfamiliar song under his breath?

It was so comfortable; Eddie didn’t think he had the capacity to be scared by it.

So he’d had his ‘oh’ moment.

Oh.

It’s **you** , Buck – it’s always been you.

It could _only_ be you.

How could it be anyone else?

How could Eddie love someone else the same way he loved Buck? How could he let another person worm their way into every nook, and cranny of his life, Buck’s light and laughter reaching the darkest parts of who Eddie was and making him feel like maybe (just maybe) Edmundo Diaz was still the kind of guy worth investing your time in, despite all the things he’d done wrong in his life.

So, Eddie had basked in his ‘oh’ moment – basked in the way his love for Buck had settled deep into his bones, as his brain finally accepted what his heart had known for such a long time, that he loved Buck, as more than a friend, his work partner, as so much more than all of that.

He’d basked in the contented feeling in his chest as he’d watched Buck stack the final wet dishes, familiar with the layout of Eddie’s kitchen in a way that would make you assume he lived there – and in so many ways, it felt like Buck did live with them. There was spare clothes of Buck’s, hanging in Eddie’s wardrobe – a jacket hanging on the hook by the door that was a touch too big for Eddie, a spare of Buck’s he left in the Diaz household for those days he’d come straight there from work, tired and aching and in need of company after a long shift. Buck’s ridiculous, overpriced oat milk sat in the fridge next to the 2% Eddie bought for himself and Chris; books and DVDs belonging to Buck littered their living room, reminders of how much a part of their lives Evan Buckley was.

Eddie loved Buck.

It was a simple fact – the sky was blue, the sun rose in the east, and set in the west, and Eddie Diaz loved Evan Buckley.

Eddie had his ‘oh’ moment –

And then he hadn’t told Buck.

Not out of fear – though if Eddie was being completely honest, maybe his fears were soothed by the prospect of not telling Buck, not yet, at least.

Eddie hadn’t told Buck because he knew Buck wasn’t ready to hear it. Love aside, Buck was his best friend, and Eddie knew that Buck was going through something – though Eddie wasn’t quite sure what - and he wasn’t ready to hear what Eddie was ready to say.

So he’d wait.

Eddie could wait.

“Waiting to hear from someone?”

Eddie glanced up at Marjan’s words, pocketing his cellphone. “Not really,” he said, pausing, reconsidering his answer. “Just haven’t heard from Buck, in a while.”

“Tall guy that was staring at me, right?”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, he was trying to figure out why he recognised you,” he explained. “Nothing sinister – I swear. Buck’s a good guy.”

Marjan nodded. “I trust you, soldier,” she said teasingly. “He’s probably busy chatting up on the fire-line – especially if he’s with Mateo. Kid can talk for hours about nothing.”

“So can Buck,” Eddie laughed, sitting down on the bench next to Marjan. He figured they were in for a wait, so might as well take the weight off his feet for a few minutes, at least – he hadn’t slept properly since they left LA, and he was feeling it. “Put him in a room with my ten year old, and you’re guaranteed a migraine.”

“And here was I thinking you were flirting with me, Diaz,” Marjan said wryly. “When you’re holding a torch for your colleague.”

“And here I was, thinking I was subtle,” Eddie countered.

“Oh, about as subtle as a flying brick,” Marjan rolled her eyes. “I swear, men like to make life more complicated than it needs to be. You realise he feels the same, right?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Have you even spoken to him?”

“No, but he was following you around like a lost puppy – and I definitely got a glare from him when you said you were coming out with the strike team, and not up the fire-line with him,” Marjan said. “It doesn’t take a genius to get four when you put two and two together.”

Eddie couldn’t exactly argue with that.

“Does he know? How you feel?” Marjan prodded.

“We’re supposed to be working,” Eddie pointed out, shaking his head.

“Oh, come on – we’re stuck the forest while the world literally burns around us,” Marjan rolled her eyes. “At least have a human conversation without me.”

“I’d like to think he knows, deep down,” Eddie relented. Why the hell not? He’d probably never see Marjan again after the fire was contained. Maybe there wasn’t any harm in talking to a neutral party about it. “But I also think he’s not ready for it. I wasn’t, until recently.”

“Why?” Marjan could give Hen a run for her money, when it came to invasive questions.

“Because this is _it_ ,” Eddie admitted. “Buck is it, for me, and admitting that – it’s a lot to deal with. I’m never going to – to feel the way I feel about him, about anyone else.”

“Isn’t that all the more reason to go for it?” Marjan looked confused.

Eddie shrugged. “When he’s ready.”

“I’ve never loved anyone like that,” Marjan shook her head. “But if I did – I don’t know if I could wait until they were ready for it. Don’t you just want to – burst, holding all that in?”

Twenty-six year old Eddie would have burst. Hell, Eddie of a few years ago, fresh out of the fire academy, having just lost Shannon, would have burst, would have burned for the enormity of it all. But he was older now – and a little wiser, maybe.

“I know it’ll be worth the wait,” Eddie explained simply, and before their conversation could continue, Captain Strand was informing the strike team he was coming via air – and then he heard Hen’s voice, and he couldn’t think about anything except Hen, his friend Hen, up there in a helicopter while a wildfire raged below.

“You should eat,” Eddie murmured, brushing a hand against Buck’s shoulder as he sat down on the hard plastic chair next to his friend, pizza warm in his lap as he tugged the cardboard box open, not caring what flavour greeted him.

Buck gave him a grateful smile, reaching for a slice. “Thanks,” he said simply, quiet again as he worked his way through his first slice with the hunger of someone who hadn’t quite realised just how hungry they were until they’d been presented with food.

“We’ll find her,” Eddie said, confident in his words. “It’s Hen Wilson. Do you really think a helicopter crash would take her out? Hen is going to go out exactly how she wants to – old, and grey, with Karen, and her kids, and grandkids. God help whoever tries to stop that dream.”

Buck laughed, at that. “I know.”

Eddie knocked his knee against Buck’s. “Then what’s got you so lost in your own head?”

Buck reached for a second slice, pausing before he spoke. “TK,” he began. “I guess I see a lot of myself in him, in some ways – and I get why he’s hurting, why he’s so angry they won’t let us get up there,” he said. “And I also get why they don’t want us to go up there now, in the dark, but it’s frustrating.”

Eddie didn’t have much of an opinion on TK – not having spent most of his day with Marjan, instead – but he could see what Buck was saying. Some of the things TK did, and said – they sounded like the kind of firefighter Buck used to be, back when he was a little more reckless, back before tsunamis and bombings and pandemics, when the world was a little brighter around the edges and Buck was softer around the edges.

“Then maybe you’re the right person to help him,” Eddie said, taking a slice of pizza before nudging the box toward Buck.

“You think?”

“I know,” Eddie reassured. “Go, bring him some food at least. I’ll be here.”

Buck nodded, careful as he closed the pizza box again, not waiting for Eddie to say anything else before he was taking off across base camp, single-minded in his mission.

“You two been together long?”

Eddie looked up to see Paul standing by his shoulder, holding out a bottle of water as a way of greeting. Gratefully accepting the water, he shook his head. “We’re not together,” he said, not disappointed as he admitted the truth aloud.

Paul raised an eyebrow. “No one is going to judge,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “Texas isn’t all that conservative – not the 126, at least.”

“I know,” Eddie’s smile was genuine. “I’m being honest – we’re not together.”

“Yet, right?” Judd joined the conversation, slumping down in the closest chair. “Come on, Hollywood, we’ve all got eyes. Y’all are more than friends.”

Eddie laughed. “I’m not going to deny it,” he held his hands up in surrender. “But we’re not there yet.”

“I don’t know your story, man, but if this shitshow of a year has taught me anything, it’s that you need to tell the people you love, that you love them when you’ve got the chance,” Judd said, Eddie’s heart aching with sympathy as he recalled an earlier conversation with Marjan about one of the paramedics at the 126 who’d been killed in the line of duty a few weeks earlier.

“Judd isn’t often wise,” Paul said with a teasing grin, the comradery of the 126 familiar – familiar in ways that made Eddie long for Los Angeles, and the full 118 team. “But right now, he’s being wise.”

Eddie laughed. “I don’t disagree,” he shook his head. “But he’s got to be ready to hear it – and right now he’s not, you know?”

Paul sighed. “Love is complicated.”

“Nah,” Judd shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “Love is the most uncomplicated thing in the world when you meet the right person. Easy as breathing – even on the bad days – because you know they’re your person.”

Paul looked surprised at the admission. “You don’t talk about Grace, all that much.”

“Gracie – my wife,” Judd said by way of explanation. “I don’t know, man. She’s my world. Sometimes its hard to share that – hard to put it into words. But even on our worst days, she’s the best decision I ever made. And I’d make the same one every time.”

Eddie had never thought of love, of Buck, as a decision – but as he let Judd’s words wash over him, he couldn’t help but agree. Every decision that had led him to Buck – however hard those decisions had been, at the time – he’d make the same ones, over and over again, if they all still led him to Buck.

That was love, wasn’t it?

“Relationships aint easy,” Judd continued. “But nothing worth doing is, you know? And when you make that decision with someone, to jump feet first in and make a go of it, you gotta commit to the good and the bad – and the bad can be so bad, but when it’s good.. Man,” he smiled, a soft, secretive smile that made Eddie wonder who Grace was – who was the person Judd was going to go home to, when all this was over, the person responsible for that smile. “When it’s good, it makes you forget all those hard times.”

“Kids are like that too,” Eddie admitted, thinking of Christopher. “Hardest job I’ve ever had, being a dad – but then Chris, my son, he gives me this goofy smile and tells me that he loves me, and you forget all the sleepless nights, and the tantrums, and the worries, and its all worth it,” he glanced up, looking between Paul and Judd. “You guys have kids?”

Paul shook his head, Judd slower to react. “One day,” Judd said, looking lost in his own thoughts. “One day.”

“Hardest job in the world,” Eddie repeated, almost as a reassurance. “But it’s the best one I’ll ever have.”

And wasn’t that the truth?

Hen was alive. Hen was alive, and the fire was contained, and they were on the road back to Los Angeles – via El Paso, first, a place Eddie hadn’t been to in a year and a half now, now. Between work, and life in LA, and then the pandemic, it hadn’t exactly been easy to get home to see his family – but he was getting to see them today.

With Buck.

Eddie was worried, how he would manage to convince the team to stop in El Paso, all while knowing he couldn’t invite them all for dinner – not with a pandemic raging, and a father who would never admit he was high-risk – but Hen had quietly solved the problem for him, reassuring Eddie that the rest of the squad would be happy to get some take-out and have a nap, while Eddie got to see his family.

With Buck.

Of course with Buck – Eddie couldn’t think of a single reason why he wouldn’t bring Buck to his childhood home in El Paso, to see his parents.

Even if it would feel different to normal, Eddie admitted to himself, scrubbing roughly at his hands. His mom had left a dish of warm water standing on the back-porch, clean towels and hand sanitiser alongside it, and Eddie could see her watching eagerly from inside, waving at him.

Life was weird, these days – Eddie was standing in front of his childhood home but he couldn’t go inside. Instead, his parents had set up two tables in the garden – one for them, and another for him and Buck, two metres apart in the open-air.

The things you needed to do to keep safe, these days, were overwhelming if you dwelled too long on them – so Eddie didn’t, working the hand sanitiser into his hands, stepping back from the back-porch as Buck finished up, putting the towel Helena had left for them in the sealed laundry bag his mom had put on the stairs.

“Oh, Eddie,” his mom sounded like she wanted to cry as she opened the door, hand to her heart as she stood, watching him. “I wish I could hug you.”

“I know,” and God, did Eddie know – those first few months of the pandemic, he’d felt broken with the want to hug his son, and knowing he couldn’t made it so much worse. Now, standing a few metres from his parents for the first time in a year, Eddie itched with the need to hug his mom, but held back, adjusting his mask over his nose instead. “But we can’t, mom.”

“I know,” Helena sighed. “But just seeing you – Eddie, it’s so good to see you.”

Eddie smiled, the expression wavering as he realised his mom wouldn’t be able to see. “It’s so good to see you too, mom,” he reassured.

“Eddie,” his father’s voice was warm – softened by the last few years, Eddie decided, age making Ramon a quieter, kinder man than he had been when Eddie himself had been a teenager. “You look good – healthy.”

“I am – we are,” Eddie reassured, gesturing to the bag on the steps. “Christopher – he sent you drawings,” he explained. “They’ve been sealed in there for two weeks – Christopher’s idea, to keep you both safe – so it should be okay.”

Seeing his kid adapt to the global pandemic they were living through had been an odd experience – Christopher was an adaptable kid normally, but he’d taken to the weirdness of it all so easily, Eddie couldn’t help but be proud. Christopher would sit patiently, and wait, when Eddie came home from work – containing his excitement to see his dad all while Eddie stripped off the clean clothes he’d put on in the station, and showered again – just to be sure – all before he could hug his son and ask about his day.

Ramon’s smile was sad, as he watched Helena look longingly at the paper bag, and then back at Eddie. “Let’s eat,” he said. “You two must be starving.”

Eddie gave Buck’s waist a reassuring brush as he nodded. “We’re starving.”

(We. He and Buck were such an automatic we, these days – that Eddie didn’t think twice about speaking for them both. He hadn’t thought twice about doing that in a long time, longer than maybe he was willing to admit to, but he could admit to it now. He considered them a we – a, ‘we’ll be at the party’ a ‘we’re going to get groceries after work’ a ‘we’ve got Christopher’s virtual parent-teacher meeting tonight’ kind of we.)

“Eddie,” his mom’s voice was quiet, Buck a little ways ahead, talking about the nuances of barbecue ribs with Eddie’s dad, holding the stack of leftovers his parents had made the rest of the squad for the road.

“Yeah, mom?”

“We’re so proud of you,” Helena said, looking as though she’d give anything to reach out and hug Eddie, in that moment. “Of your career – of the life you’ve built for yourself in Los Angeles. I don’t think we tell you that enough, but I hope you know.”

“I know, mom,” Eddie reassured, and he did know – now, at least. Distance had been healing, for his relationship with his parents, and they’d worked through a lot in the last few years, their relationship in the kind of place Eddie couldn’t have imagined it being, all those years ago now, when he’d first gotten home from Afghanistan.

“And if that life – if that life includes Buck,” Helena said, glancing toward Buck. “Don’t think us so old-fashioned that we won’t support you.”

“ _Mom_.” Eddie couldn’t help the desperate crack in his voice.

Helena gave him a soft smile. “You forget we know what you look like when you’re in love, Eddie – and though its been a long time since I’ve seen it, I’m your mom, I know,” she said. “You look at that boy like he hung the moon and stars.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. “Are you really okay with the idea of it? Both of you?”

“Your father loves you more than life itself,” Helena said fiercely. “We both do.”

“I know – I just….” Eddie trailed off. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know before that I could feel this way about him, and if it took me this long to accept, I figured that maybe….” he trailed off again, not sure of how to phrase what he wanted to say.

“If this God-awful year has taught us anything, sweetheart, its that life is short,” Helena said. “And happiness is what counts. If Buck makes you happy, if he makes you and Christopher happy, then you should be happy.”

“Thanks, mom,” Eddie could feel tears welling up in his eyes. “That means a lot.”

Helena gave him a reassuring smile. “So – are you going to tell him, and make your father happy, and give him another son-in-law?”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “You’re jumping the gun a little, mom,” he said. “But I’ll tell him – when he’s ready to hear it.”

“Don’t leave it too long,” Helena warned. “Life is short, Edmundo. Be happy.”

“I am,” Eddie said, surprised at how easily the admission came. “I am. I promise.”

“Okay,” Helena didn’t push, stopping herself from reaching out for Eddie as they caught up to Buck and Ramon. “Well – give Christopher some hugs from us, okay? And keep safe – the both of you.”

“We will,” Buck reassured, realising Eddie was struggling to speak – realising without even looking at Eddie, as always.

“Drive safe,” Ramon said, holding Eddie’s mom close – Eddie jealous, right to his toes, desperate to reach out and hug his parents – just for a second.

(All it took, was a second – and then it would be Eddie’s fault that his parents didn’t get to grow old.)

Eddie nodded, waving at his parents with a sad smile as they headed for the ladder truck, Hen behind the wheel and waiting patiently for them. Determined not to break apart at the seams, Eddie swung himself up into the truck, Buck brandishing the leftovers to their delighted teammates.

“Ramon Diaz’s ribs are world-famous - and utterly delicious,” Buck reassured, using Eddie’s dads earlier words.

“Buck can attest,” Eddie said wryly, settling down into a seat as Hen started to drive. “He ate half a cow in a disgustingly short amount of time.”

“I’m a growing boy!”

They’d just crossed the state-line, Texas fading to Arizona, when Buck reached for Eddie’s hand, the squad distracted – by food, by a video on Jack’s phone, by arguing over what the next rest stop should be. “Are you okay?” he asked, Buck’s expression so desperately sincere that it took everything Eddie had not to lean in and kiss him, there and then.

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, linking their fingers together, giving Buck’s hand a squeeze. “I wish I could have hugged them.”

Buck gave him a sympathetic nod. “You can hug me, instead – until you get home to Christopher.”

Eddie couldn’t help but smile, leaning against Buck, shoulder-to-knee, every part of them pressed together. “Okay,” he hummed, closing his eyes and leaning against Buck’s shoulder, the familiar scent of Buck’s cologne just about clinging to the material of Buck’s jacket, faded after their busy few days in Texas.

(When Eddie woke up – they were almost in Phoenix, and Buck was still holding his hand, and Eddie was pretty sure this was what home felt like.)

Eddie was worried.

Eddie was worried because Buck was being very un-Buck – Buck had never been the type of person to talk with his fists, to vent his emotions using the station’s punching bag. And yet, here he was – hitting the punching bag like it had personally offended him.

Eddie could recognise his own unhealthy coping mechanisms in someone else.

“Buck..”

“I’m fine,” Buck replied, decidedly not fine as he threw a particularly hard punch.

“You’re not,” Eddie replied simply.

“Eddie, man, don’t do this.”

“Don’t what? Don’t try and be there for you? Buck, whatever is going on, I’m here for you.”

“There’s – nothing – going – on,” Buck replied, accentuating each word with a particularly vicious punch. “My parents are coming to town. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, seems real fine to me,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “You practising to punch someone or just generally feeling this joyful about seeing your mom and dad?”

Buck gave him a pissy look. “You’ve become very annoying, since you started doing to regular therapy.”

Eddie grinned. “You should try it some time,” he teased.

“I am,” Buck paused his assault on the punching bag. “Trying therapy, I mean. The COVID crush that Chimney teases about – it’s a therapist. One outside of the department – I started uh, I started seeing her a couple of months back.”

“That’s really good, Buck.”

“Is it?” Buck seemed doubtful. “I’m twenty-seven, and in full-time – full time therapy,” he threw a half-hearted punch at the bag. “In therapy for all the ways I’m fucked up – and we don’t even talk about work, all that much, really, it’s the other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” Eddie pushed – and maybe he shouldn’t have pushed, because Buck immediately shut down.

“No one wants to hear about my champagne problems,” Buck said with a bright, clearly fake grin, tossing Eddie the boxing gloves, giving Eddie his scheduled turn.

“I do,” Eddie said simply. “When you’re ready.”

Ready looked different than Eddie expected – ready was Buck on his front porch at 3am, a wild look in his eyes that Eddie didn’t quite know how to deal with.

“They were older, when they had Maddie – so it meant they were definitely older parents when they had me,” Buck said, shivering slightly, but still refusing to come inside, not willing to risk waking Christopher up. It would be endearing, if it wasn’t January – Eddie didn’t want Buck to get sick, on top of everything else.

“That doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Eddie shrugged. He’d been young, when Christopher was born – and in so many ways, he couldn’t help but wonder if fatherhood would have come more naturally to him if he’d been older.

“It was, for them,” Buck shook his head. “They – they’re not good with kids,” he said. “I never got the impression they liked having us around all that much, didn’t like the noise and mess that comes with being parents. They – they did the laundry, they cooked, they drove us to school. But it always felt like they were a million miles away, just biding their time until we were old enough to go out into the world on our own, and then their duties would be done.”

Eddie barely held in a raised eyebrow. He couldn’t imagine ever feeling done, with Christopher – his kid would be fifty years old, and Eddie would still be doing his damn best to parent his kid. That was how it worked, that was what you signed up for, with parenthood.

“I’m in therapy because I didn’t realise how much being raised like that fucked me up,” Buck admitted. “The lack of interest – the constant quiet. I was always so fucking lonely, in that house, Eddie, and then when I left I just kept chasing things that made me feel like I was less alone – sex, adventure, anything that gave me a little bit of adrenaline and made me forget for a minute that I am completely, utterly alone in the world.”

I am. I am. I am.

That was present tense.

“You’re not alone,” Eddie’s voice was soft as he spoke. “You have me.”

Buck looked at him, and his expression was so open, so honest, it could have broken Eddie. It felt like they were finally there – finally crossing the line neither of them had been willing to cross, just yet. “Do I?”

“Yes,” Eddie was firm, in his response, reaching for Buck’s hand. “And when you’re ready to hear it, I’ll tell you – I promise. But I need you to know that now, Buck – you’re not alone, because you have me.”

Buck looked intently at their joined hands, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Buck confirmed. “I’ll tell you – when I’m ready.”

“Good,” Eddie nodded, gazing out at the view – still marvelling at how busy Los Angeles always was, the city a sea of streetlights and neon signs and people still going places, even if it was 3am, even if it was a Tuesday night in the middle of a pandemic. Eddie loved the anonymity of it all – how to anyone who might look, he and Buck were just strangers, two people sitting on their front porch in the middle of the night – friends, maybe. Lovers, more likely. Something to each other, at the very least.

Eddie wanted everyone in the world to think – and to know – he was something to Buck.

(He was everything to Buck – Buck just wasn’t ready to say that out-loud, not yet.)

The next few weeks were a whirlwind – Buck’s parents visiting had been worse than Eddie expected, and then there had been the bomb, all the trauma it had triggered and then it had been…. Well, that was Buck’s secret to tell, and to come to terms with, not Eddie’s.

But he had been there to help – Eddie would always be there to help.

That was what you did, for the people you loved.

It happened on a quiet Wednesday morning.

“Hey Eddie?” Buck’s voice was soft, as he watched Eddie make a coffee, still not used to all the fancy functions the new maker had, foamed milk and flavours and all sorts of things that Eddie would never have indulged himself in, if he’d been the one to buy it – but features he loved all the same, knowing how to programme Buck’s favourite coffee into the machine, at the very least.

“Hey Buck.” Eddie replied with a smile, passing the mug over.

“I’m ready now,” Buck said, a glimmer of sparkle back in his eyes now – finally. He was wearing an old sweatshirt of Eddie’s, soft and rumpled and oh-so achingly familiar in the backdrop of Eddie’s kitchen, having stayed the night after their twenty-four hour shift, all for the promise of being able to see Christopher for fifteen minutes before school. “If you are.”

Eddie couldn’t help but smile, as he let Buck’s words sink in.

He was ready.

He was so fucking ready.

“It’s you, Buck,” Eddie said, voice soft over the hum of the coffee machine, the traffic report playing in the background, the familiar rumble of their garbage collection truck swinging by the background music to the first moment of the rest of their lives, plastic scraping along concrete, the beep of an irate driver or two barely audible through the closed glass of Eddie’s front window. “It’s you. It’s always been you – it’s only ever going to be you. I love you.”

Buck’s eyes were closed. “Can you say that again?”

Anything, for you.

“I love you,” Eddie eased the coffee mug out of Buck’s grip – one he’d bought Buck on a whim, one day at the mall, a silly panda (Buck’s favourite animal) cartoon on the front, the name ‘Evan’ painted in orange cursive on the other side. “I love you so much I don’t know what to do with it sometimes, Buck – I love you.”

Buck’s eyes were open, now, hesitant hands reaching for Eddie’s shoulders, the familiar expanse of Buck’s hands covering his shoulders, coming to rest on the curve of his neck. “I love you too,” he admitted. “I think I probably always have.”

Eddie leaned into the enormity of those words – Buck’s admission that so much of their friendship had been built on that very foundation, that it was love, all along, and they just needed some time to catch up to that knowledge, to embrace it, to embrace the life they’d built together for what it was – a life for them to share, not one to co-exist in.

“You’re my family, Eddie.”

“And you’re mine,” Eddie replied, the words easy, after so many months of waiting.

“I won’t believe you, sometimes,” Buck said, broken by all the ways he’d been lied to, in his life – affected by the family he’d been raised within in ways that Eddie couldn’t quite comprehend. He’d still try, though.

“I won’t believe you either, sometimes,” Eddie said, knowing it was true – Buck could promise, all he liked, that he wouldn’t leave, and there would always remain a treacherous part of Eddie’s brain that believed Evan Buckley was living with one foot out the door. “That’s okay, though.”

“Is it?”

“We’ll just remind each other,” Eddie shrugged.

“It’s that easy?”

“No,” Eddie admitted, Judd’s words of a few weeks previously coming back to him. “But nothing worth having is easy.” 

Buck was relaxed, in Eddie’s arms now, pliant and pliable, Eddie’s hands resting on his waist, bunching up the material of the borrowed sweater as he gripped tightly. “Am I worth having?”

Eddie grinned. “I told you – it’s _you_ , Evan.”

He couldn’t explain it beyond that – not really. It was as simple as that – a part of Eddie had always known that Evan Buckley was the one he needed to find, was the person he was supposed to stand beside in his life, and when they’d met, that part of Eddie had settled, and waited, and waited – and waited until the rest of Eddie had caught on to what part of him had always known.

That it was only ever going to make sense for it to be Buck.

Buck let out a breath it sounded like he’d been holding for years, leaning into Eddie’s embrace. “I love you, Eddie.”

Rather than say it again – Eddie kissed him, leaning in and pressing his lips to Buck’s in a soft, slow, kiss, the kind of kiss he felt right down to his toes, Buck’s mouth deliciously unfamiliar against his own – the prospect of all the things he had left to learn about his best friend thrilling Eddie, making him wonder how best Buck liked to be kissed, if it was soft, and slow, like they were kissing now, love and certainty and comfort flowing through Eddie’s veins, slow and sticky like molasses – or did Buck prefer quick and messy, the kind of kisses that left your head spinning?

Eddie was excited to learn.

“Can we do a lot more of that?” Buck murmured against Eddie’s lips, Eddie not sure for a second if he was hearing Buck’s question, or feeling it, the words vibrating against the tender skin of Eddie’s lips, neither of them willing to break the spell of their embrace.

Eddie smiled, nudging Buck’s nose with his own, moving the other man’s head slightly so he had a better angle, kissing him again. “We’ve got all the time in the world,” he promised – and maybe it wasn’t true, not when the world was going to shit around them, and they worked a dangerous job, but there and then, standing in his kitchen on a quiet Wednesday morning, it felt like the only truth Eddie had ever know.

That he and Buck had all the time in the world.

(And that there was simply never going to be enough time to love Buck for as long and as deeply as he deserved to be – both of those things could be simultaneously true, Eddie decided.)

“What do we do now then?” Buck asked, and Eddie knew he wasn’t asking about the immediate future – though Eddie could answer that one, too, and the answer was coffee and kissing.

Eddie smiled. “Live happily ever after, I think.”

(Eddie used to think happily ever after meant that it would be simple – and it wasn’t. He and Buck could fight like cats and dogs, and they did, often, and Buck had plenty of his own trauma to work through before Eddie even considered his own. But it was happily ever after, all the same. And that made them the lucky ones.)

“Worth the wait?” Marjan’s smile was infectious, the sweltering Texas’ sun making the stitching of her hijab glitter.

Eddie grinned. “Worth the wait,” he confirmed, unconsciously rubbing at the new tattoo hidden under his t-shirt, familiar words written in Buck’s handwriting, a constant reminder of the love they shared.

Judd grinned, glancing over to where Buck and TK were standing – plotting, presumably. “Best decision you ever made, right?”

Eddie laughed. “I’d make the same decision again, no question.”

(“Are we ever going to see this new tattoo?” Chimney had asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Eddie shook his head. “I get to keep one secret.”)

It had been worth every second of the wait.

**fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> what started as a missing scenes fic turned into this monster. hope you enjoyed!


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